


Blur

by canigetuhhhhh



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bottom Loki (Marvel), Come as Lube, Good clean fun, Loki being a little shit, M/M, Magic, No Incest, Not Canon Compliant, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sneaky Loki, Tags May Change, Topping from the Bottom, Weird Plot Shit, an oxymoron, at all period don’t @ me, emotionally constipated yet sexually enlightened?, power bottom loki, romantic comedy tones, stephen strange and his incredible verse energy, stephen strange is kind of dumb
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-04-19 04:03:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14228832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canigetuhhhhh/pseuds/canigetuhhhhh
Summary: Sorcerer Supreme Stephen Strange, and Loki, Trickster and God of Mischief, summon the Beast With Two Backs.An ongoing collection of semi-related ficlets of your Local Sorcerer Supreme and lowkey god, Loki, getting it on as Marvin Gaye intended.





	1. Give Me Your Heat

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, fair warning that this fic is not going to be updated on a regular basis because ya author is a busy person. I will try to add chapters every other Friday, and sweet requests and/or suggestions are absolutely welcome in the comment section. This is largely unedited filth, and for that I’m sorry.
> 
> Feel free to send your compliments to the chef via kudos or some love letters; all of them feed my drive to contribute to this sexy beast of burden.
> 
> Remember to eat with your eyes!
> 
> \- A

Fucking was simple. His partner, maybe not so simple, but makeup sex because breaking things in the Sanctum? _Again_?

Easy.

Loki was panting messily into the sheets, Stephen groaning into his reddening neck—he was thrusting feverishly into Loki, each smack of skin on skin punctuated by a punched-out moan or trembling sigh. Stephen sat back on his haunches, watching his cock disappear between the infamous trickster’s cheeks, the new angle pulling a muffled moan from the God’s chest. Stephen huffed out a chuckle and Loki swatted blindly behind him, choking on another moan at an especially sharp thrust, Stephen’s trembling fingers drifting teasingly over milky sweat-drenched skin. Loki said something unintelligible, arching beautifully under him. Stephen hummed appreciatively, tilting his head back and grinding into the seemingly infinite slick heat gripping every inch of him.

Loki was bouncing his hips back in time with Strange’s thrusts, their rhythms finally aligning with explosive results; copper sparks flew briefly from the doctor’s fingers, crawling up Loki’s ribs. The trickster yelped in surprise and pleasure—he unexpectedly came in spurts all over the already sullied sheets, hole fluttering around Stephen’s dick as the sorcerer’s hands flew up in alarm. Loki ground his hips as his orgasm tried to find some kindlf purchase, Stephen thrusting one last time before painting his navel and Loki’s lower back in cum with a shout. His brain sat stagnant for the first time in years, both briefly boneless before he came to with jolt, his hands immediately searching Loki’s body for any damage. Loki grumbled, still drifting through post-coital bliss, the doctor in Stephen beside himself with concern.

“Shit, Loki, I didn’t mean to zap you like that—Loki? Loki,” Stephen guided him onto his side, mindful of the mess they made should he face the rougish prince’s wrath. “Talk to me—are you okay? Did I hurt you?” Loki blinked up at him drowsily, a sated grin curling his lips as he pulled Stephen close in a loose hold.

“Calm yourself, lover,” Loki purred, long, elegant fingers stroking the fine hairs at the nape of his partner’s neck. “No harm done—just a few sparks.” Loki sat up and crawled into his lap, kissing and sucking at Stephen’s collar distractingly. Stephen ducked away to better view the unmarred skin where his hands had been, brow creased in a mix of confusion and concern. Loki chuckled, breath warm and tempting.

“We’ve all gotten a little...too excited before.” Loki was hardening slightly and Stephen tried not to be jealous of his impossible refractory; the sorcerer’s own loins stirred traitorously as Loki moaned in his ear. “Nobody’s perfect—well, except for me, but you are just a mortal.”

Shit head.

“I’m always in control of my magic Loki,” Stephen tried to sound firm, but his lover caught onto his hardening dick. “I’ve never...uh, shocked someone like that. Ever.” He stumbled and tried not to thrust up into Loki’s now mysteriously slick palms.

Well, not _too_ mysterious—he was a wizard.

“Mmm...happens to the best of us, Sorcerer Supreme. I like it when you lose a little control like that. Feels good.” Loki whispered hotly into his ear, and Stephen scowled.

“I’m _always_ in control.” Stephen reiterated stubbornly, secretly relieved he didn’t cause any undue harm onto the currently insatiable man wriggling in his lap.

Loki ‘ _mmm_ ’d noncommittally, trying to coax Stephen’s erection back to full hardness. His eyes lit up when the doctor finally let him push him into a more pleasing position, fingers reaching back to further stretch himself open for Stephen’s cock.

“We will eventually talk more about me zapping you like that—fuck!” Loki bottomed out, neck exposed and eyes shut reverently. He rolled his hips experimentally and watched Stephen tense under him, clenching around his lover.

“That’s the idea,” Loki hummed, _innocently_ knocking an ancient relic off the table Stephen kept by the bed. “Looks like we’re in need of another round.”


	2. You’re Hard To Reach (You’re Cold to Touch)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki has a little too much free time it seems...

Loki wasn’t lonely, per say, but being alone with oneself while the only interesting man on Earth is busy saving someone’s granny or a lost puppy? It was more bored than lonely. _Obviously_.

Well...ok, a tad lonely, not that he would ever admit that. It was like banging his head on a wall, and having to sleep without that constant warmth at his side tested him in ways he couldn’t fully comprehend. He was grounded on this boring rock and there was only so much translating or researching one can do before they start feeling a little mad.

“Stop being dramatic.” Loki hissed, snapping his book shut. He was just so bored!

He paced Stephen’s apartment like some caged animal, too agitated to sit. Loki was being moody, and his idiot brother was all go blame, getting them stuck on this stupid planet. The Sorcerer Supreme probably wasn’t even this bothered right now—“cool as a cucumber” or whatever these idiot mortals say, as always, _perfectly in control_. Loki stomped all the way to the bedroom, not sulking, and lied in the center of bed to stare at the ceiling. TV was boring and futile, he read every book in the house, wasn’t really all that hungry, not especially tired...he growled and crawled onto Stephen’s side of the bed, breathing in the scent of his aftershave.

His cock seemed to stir at that, rolling further into Stephen’s pillow and wishing a different hand was slipping into his jeans. He started slow, following the memory of Stephen’s hands on him as he brought himself off, thumb slipping over his slit; one hand toyed with his perineum, the other leisurely pumping his cock.

Loki just wished it was Strange’s hands on him instead of his own, hungry for the human man that seemed to bewitch him so thoroughly. Stephen made the most delicious noises under his hands, and Loki was always eager to eat them up.

He gasped and spilled into his palm, the image of Stephen panting under him, eyes glazed with pleasure—he licked his lips and caught his breath, snatching a tissue off of the side table.

That human witch better hurry home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s technically Friday where I am, feast!
> 
> \- A


	3. Summer Rains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey, new chapter! Sorry, I was super busy and had to work on other, more important stuff.
> 
> Enjoy, sorry if it feels a little rushed.
> 
> A

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ll try to keep up with chapters and such, but a new semester is starting and I really would like to earn my degree!

Loki sighed with each thrust, warm rain and steamed windows making his body more pliable—the rain eased him, tangled with his love. The sun was setting in a rose-washed sky, their room painted by the approaching dusk and the sound of slick skin against skin. It made Stephen’s body glow golden, sweat trickling down each surprisingly defined muscle, his trembling hands guiding Loki back to him with each plunge.

“Stephen,” Loki gasped, twisting his hips in hopes that Stephen’s cock would drag over his prostate. Stephen only slowed down even further, humming questioningly. “For fucks sake, Stephen, don’t be coy.”

The sorcerer laughed at that, kissing at his lover’s neck—their first time apart tormented his waking hours and dreams, replaying the trickster’s spit-slick lips and gasping breath as he alone brought himself to the edge. Loki had greeted him home with those same cloying lips wrapped around his cock, bringing him to the edge before Stephen impatiently transported them to his apartment. Coitus interuptus. Loki simply wrapped his thighs around Stephen’s waist and allowed him to press that long, lithe body into the mattress.

He ground their hips together and sighed into the feeling, groaning shakily. It felt like everything he had been missing—oh.

 _Oh_. 

Loki saw his opening and flipped them, licking his lips; Stephen went with the momentum of it, running his fingertips over Loki’s ribs teasingly. Loki shuddered before pressing his lover’s cock back in, clenching around Stephen’s dick with a hiss. _Fuck_.

It was fucking bliss—he gaped dumbly, words escaping him, clearly to Loki’s delight judging by the smug grin on his face.

“God, I’ve been waiting for this for weeks,” Stephen mumbled heatedly. “Wanted to see that smile, kiss it right off your face.” He slurred through the pleasure of Loki hips rocking fluidly with his own.

Loki was trying to stifle a whimper, sweat trailing down his chest as he slowly rode out the gratifying feeling of fullness, completion. Stephen wanted to lick and taste every inch of him.

“Missed this.” Loki’s breath hitched, eyes wide, before snapping back into _sexsweatbackhe’sback_!

His head was up in the clouds, Loki openly moaning in his lap now, coming across their bellies. Stephen thrusted discordantly at the fluttering of Loki’s hole around his sensitive cock head, coming deep into his partner with a broken whine. Loki flopped bonelessly into their mess, panting in Stephen’s equally sweaty embrace. 

They laid there in tired, contented silence as both tried to reign in their wits into at least one functioning braincell.

“Missed you,” Loki rolled the unfamiliar words in his mouth, slowly rubbing small circles into Stephen’s hip. “Quit gloating, it isn’t a good look.” Stephen just kissed his temple and tiredly magicked their mess away.

His body was catching up to the moment and he was drowsily smiling into Loki’s neck like a fool, Loki tangling their limbs together into one sated mass of blankets. When did he pull up the blankets? Loki yawned and kissed his forehead.

“Welcome home.”


	4. Glacier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You’re hard to reach; you’re cold to touch.
> 
> Loki and Strange struggle with the constantly interfering powers that be in their life.

Loki had always been a bit of a glutton for punishment—he always found himself in trouble, part of the trickster territory really, and the little jolt of spitting, magical sparks in the heat of fucking...exhilarating.

 

Stinging, sharp. The taste of his lover’s power as he was caught in the throes of pleasure, so distracted with LokiLokiLoki. It was intoxicating, to be the center of this (annoyingly) brilliant man’s attention. Then that shock, like claws and flames and blades all at once; he craved that distracted, impassioned Stephen Strange. He wanted to unravel that genius mind’s laser focus into something hungrier. Stephen always prattled on about having a “photographic memory” that made each passionate gaze so much more than any other lover Loki had ever picked apart for his own pleasure—it brought out more theatrics, give him a show.

 

He wanted to capture his attention, pleasure him in ways he will truly never forget; he wanted Stephen to close his eyes and see Loki bringing himself to rapture, all in his honor.

 

Of course, that required dragging him away from his studies, a task proven...difficult, despite Loki’s persuasive nature. He was currently perched on the edge of Strange’s desk, watching Stephen try to piece together something Thor, the lummox, broke during his last visit. It was a complex tower of...needles or something, unfamiliar in Loki’s distracted state. The sturdy desk under him would be adequate enough, but the focused sorcerer occupying it was another story. Pulling Strange from a project was nigh impossible, especially when it came to his magical toys—Loki would’ve just thrown it to one of Stephen’s little pets with a sneer for a moment alone with his lover.

 

Ever since he showed his hand weeks ago, Strange was suddenly preoccupied with every damned piece of junk in his precious “Sanctum,” if you could even call it that; their sex life had turned dry and bland, like the stupid “granola” Thor tried force feeding him the other day.

 

Thor, the big dolt. Loki wouldn’t be chasing Strange’s coattails like some maiden if his fool brother didn’t break everything he touched—he mumbled a quiet curse as he slunk away from the sorcerer’s desk into a fog, off to find something to occupy his sudden irritation.

 

~

 

Stephen groaned and rolled his shoulders, sitting up from his hunched position with an even more pitiful sound. Damn his aging joints and impossible magical apparatuses; Loki’s slim, strong fingers digging into his shoulders came to mind and Stephen hid his flushing cheeks from absolutely no one behind a scarred hand. The Sanctum was cold and dark, lit by a few ancient lights and candles—and Loki was nowhere in sight. That could mean a few things, some disastrous and others...slightly less disastrous, but usually contained to either The Sanctum or his apartment. He knew Loki was on edge, especially after Thor’s rather catastrophic visit, which probably meant he was prowling somewhere in the apartment. Both were still mourning Asgard, though Strange picked up that Loki was far better at hiding it.

 

Stephen had thought it best to give Loki his space, but he was starting to kick himself for leaving Loki to mill about the Sanctum alone with his regrets. There were too many places for Loki to disappear into, but he had taken a shine to the Rotunda...maybe he was watching penguins in the South Pole again, not that he would ever admit to such a thing. Stephen glided down the stairs and through quiet corridors towards the Rotunda, coming to a silent stop at the sight of his lover; he was sitting on the ground, an arm halding him up from behind white the other rested on a bent knee, arctic blue light resting on the high points of of his face. The cloak slid off his shoulders and hung itself neatly on the wall as he lowered himself to the ground next to Loki, shoulder to shoulder.

 

“What are you watching?” He whispered, though he didn’t know why; close to his lover like this, hearing the snap and groan of massive glaciers colliding, it felt appropriate.

 

“Earth’s melting icecaps.” Loki responded drolly, though he did lean in a bit closer to him to absorb his warmth.

 

Stephen carefully move their fingers together, watching the blush on Loki’s high cheekbones spread. He wanted to imprint the sight behind his eyelids—each strand of glossy black hair, the tip of his lover’s tongue cautiously wetting his lips. They were shoulder to shoulder, fingers slowly interlocking; Loki’s head threatened to drop where their shoulders met, and Stephen secretly hoped it would.

 

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Loki mused, still watching the ice floes diligently. Stephen nodded, albeit cautiously given the frosty air Loki was producing seemingly unchecked. The sat together in silence, Stephen giving Loki the opportunity to process the thoughts swirling in his head. It wasn’t unlike Loki to brood or sulk, but left to rot made for an especially morose God of Mischief. Loki looked too sad to glare at the magical gate, eyes suspiciously dewy.

 

“You must know by now that I was adopted, yes?” Loki mumbled after an eternity of listening to the eerie snap of ancient glaciers and frost. Stephen took care to carefully watch the slight wobble of Loki’s lip, how blue his eyes were, without getting caught.

 

“Thor has mentioned it,” He didn’t want to push, carefully brushing his thumb across bony knuckles; Loki’s snorted at the mention of his brother. “I didn’t want to pry.”

 

“Father,” Loki paused, almost as if saying the word was painful enough. “Odin. He found me in a frozen land not unlike this, though Jotunheim was far more...perilous.” Loki shifted slightly, lifting his and Strange’s hands to inspect better.

 

“Sometimes I wish never pried myself.” Loki huffed somberly.

 

“Did you get into a fight?” Stephen pushed gently, getting any personal insight out of Loki similar to pulling teeth. Loki kissed Stephen’s hand, brushing his lips where their fingers intertwined.

 

“As always.” Loki mumbled defiantly, trying to distract Strange with sweet lips and failing. “He’s not just a prince anymore. After Asgard...” Loki drifted off, a pained look in his eyes.

 

“After Asgard fell,” Loki continued, voice thick, “Each move he makes is scrutinized that much more than his predecessor; he must now think beyond himself, for the betterment of all Asgardians...for the rest of his species.” Stephen remembered the glimpses of Loki’s true form in the back of his head, tucking an errant lock of ink black hair behind his lover’s ear.

 

“You wouldn’t be this torn up just over your brother’s stressful new job, Loki. What else happened?” Stephen kissed along Loki’s jaw, his lover’s eyes fluttering closed as he tilted his head to give the doctor better access to his sensitive neck.

 

“They don’t approve of me. The Avengers.” Loki grumbled, though that was common knowledge. “I don’t care what the think of me; I hate that they punish Thor for it, for something he has nothing to do with.” Loki moaned ever so slightly, straddling Strange and guiding him to the ground.

 

He kept Strange’s head bracketed between where his elbows framed his face, trading soft, wet kisses. Stephen ignored the pain in his back, grazing his fingers along Loki’s ribs to coax out a breathy moan.

 

“They especially don’t approve of this.” Loki murmured against his love’s lips, positioning their groins to shamelessly rut on the floor. “The Asgardians watch their cursed second prince scamper off to lie with a human, the Avengers see a criminal seduce and corrupt their arcane advisor; I’m beginning to grow tired of this pariahdom.” Stephen keened as Loki set a rhythm, gripping Loki’s biceps. A thought surfaced like bubble, bursting from his mouth without hesitation—

 

“I love you.”

 

Loki paused, face soft and flushed, eyes wide. “You know I do, right? No matter what anyone says, even through your pariahdom, I’ll still love you.” His love hid his face against his neck, ears flushed red; Stephen caressed the back of his neck, kissing him on top of his head. Whenever it came to the heart, Loki was surprisingly a man of few words...he was more a man of action.

 

Loki ground their clothed cocks together, biting dark bruises into the sorcerer’s throat between hums of pleasure and muffled moans. Stephen guided Loki between his legs, carefully unbuttoning his shirt to reach the milky skin underneath it; Loki was tinged with desperation, as if he was trying to devour Stephen body and soul.

 

“I don’t see how this,” Loki gasped when Strange’s hands found hardening, dusky nipples, trailing down towards Loki’s hips then pelvis. “Teasing each other, making love...is any of their business.” Loki set upon him in a frenzy, sucking and biting between whispered venerations.

 

Loki somehow freed Strange’s cock, pinning his hips as he swallowed him down to the short hairs of his navel, Stephen’s head thoughtlessly slamming back onto the delicate tile of the rotunda with a wheeze. His scarred hands twisted through Loki’s long hair, trying not to thrust up into his partner’s throat.

 

Loki was pleased to finally have Strange’s cock on his tongue, losing himself to the feeling of being used as the sorcerer’s hips began unconsciously thrusting into Loki’s inviting mouth. The trickster let his jaw slacken, willing his throat to relax—Stephen began stroking his face, watching his penis disappear beyond Loki’s stretched lips.

 

“You look so good like this, Loki, so good to me.” Loki gazed up at his lover’s praise, blue eyes misted over. “That talented mouth of yours...perfect.” Loki blinked up at him innocently before swallowing around his cock again, gripping Stephen’s still clothed thighs. Strange swore, cradling Loki’s head as his lover suckled the head and glands as one free hand stroked the shaft, the other reaching back to trace his perineum.

 

“You’re flawless, so beautiful...Loki, shit, I love you—” Loki let go of his cock with a pop, crawling up his body to kiss him; they tore at each other’s clothes, pushing fabric aside so Stephen could stretch Loki’s hole open, Loki biting his neck and collar.

 

Loki moaned, hips grinding in time with Stephen’s fingers. Loki mumbled something about lube, reaching somewhere above himself, likely rummaging in his drawer inside the apartment. Stephen’s fingers became slicker, knuckle deep and twisting—Loki gasped and whined, arching into his lovers palm. Sweat was running down his face, lit by the arctic blue surrounding them like a viel; it cocooned their writhing forms from the world around them, Stephen kissing and worshiping every inch of skin he could reach with his free hand. When he finally thrusted into his lover, it wasn’t a moment too soon. Loki groaned at the stretch, slowly bottoming out, mind floating somewhere out of reach above his body.

 

“Lovely thing, that.” Loki gasped when Stephen’s hips were pressed firmly against his ass, reaching back to stroke where they were joined. Stephen trembled, trying to control his betraying hips. Loki’s long arms wrapped around Strange’s shoulders and gripped the short hairs at the nape oh his neck—they were damp with sweat, taught in Loki’s grip.

 

“Ready?” Stephen asked breathlessly, Loki nodding against his neck where he was finding more skin to mark. Strange’s fingers followed the arch of Loki’s spine, kissing his temple before starting a slow, gentle rhythm. As desperate as they were feeling, it felt as if time was suspended—their unhurried thrusts were the only proof of an undisturbed timeline.

 

“I feel like every time I bare myself to you like this,” Loki murmured, voice hushed. “I’m giving another chunk of myself to you; when you smile, the damned stars align and I’m helpless—fuck—to your whim.” Loki’s eyes were ablaze, committing each minute detail of his beloved’s flushed face to memory.

 

Stephen shivered—Loki left him breathless, and he wished he had the words to describe it as his lover did; the viper with a silver tongue had honeyed words when he was feeling charitable. He instead kissed along his lover’s sharp jaw, taking in each gasp and moan as Loki ground their hips together. Strange took hold of Loki’s hips, stalling them for a moment to his lover’s whining confusion.

 

“I need to see your face.” Stephen whispered hoarsely, guiding Loki onto his back. It was a dart through the heart—Loki’s pulse jumped at the look Stephen gave him as he thrusted back into him, sitting back with Loki’s lithe thighs wrapped around his hips.

 

His shirt was a mess by now, a few buttons missing and scattered somewhere in the rotunda. A bead of sweat ran down his chest between his pectorals and Loki’s felt as if his was about to burst; he reached up and tore at its shoulder, exposing more of Stephen’s torso. Strange snapped his hips in turn, reaching between them to swipe a calloused thumb across the head of Loki’s cock in retaliation. Loki yelped and clenched around Strange’s dick, the sound of ripping fabric and skin on skin filling the rotunda as the trickster accidentally tore off the rest of his partner’s shirt. Stephen laughed and bent over to kiss the him, stroking some hair away from his face while his free hand squelched as he jerked Loki off. Their hips stuttered like a needle skipping on the edge of a record, legs and pants tangled in an impossible mass. Loki caught Strange’s lips for a wet, desperate kiss—Stephen’s hands felt perfectly still as he breath hitched and hips spasmed. Loki immediately grabbed his own cock, hissing when Stephen’s hand clumsily joined it.

 

“Let me,” he gasped, “please, let me.” Loki nodded along dumbly, keening at the rasp of Stephen’s mustache against his lips.

 

Stephen hummed as he bottomed out, Loki’s hips grinding against his own, over sensitive. He grunted into Loki’s jaw and sucked at his pale throat, and Loki was close, so, so, so close...Loki’s hearing faded and his body felt weightless, his orgasm blocking away the color and sound of the world around him. It was the highest high; his bones felt like clouds or cotton, mind blank besides a terrifying hum of ilovehim chasing up his spine. It was heaven on Earth—suddenly he got it—resurfacing to the gentle stroking of his face and body, Stephen murmuring quietly against his lips.

 

“I love you,” he murmured, “so much—I love you.” Loki’s blue eyes were soft around the edged, softer than usual. They lied in comfortable silence, skin cooling against the tiles, side by side.

 

“I love you too.” Loki’s voice was hoarse from misuse, almost undetectable, “I love you, and I was so scared of losing you, strange as that sounds” Stephen turned to him knowingly, their hands locking together as he watched patiently. The Cloak noiselessly fluttered over to cover them like a blanket, though it knew Loki couldn’t feel the cold.

 

“When Thor and I argued...well, he said he wished he left me on Sakaar in so many words, though I don’t blame him.” Loki chuffed mirthlessly, finger tracing the scars that littered Stephen’s chest. “I deserved it—his people must look to him now, and the Avengers resent him for letting me survive Asgard. I’ve made a mess of things.” Loki held his hand and sighed. Stephen kissed his knuckles, silent.

 

“Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.” Loki murmured, submitting when Strange pulled him closer.

 

“I thought you hatted human literature?” Strange smiled into Loki’s hair, kissing his temple.

 

“Human language couldn’t hope to ever comprehend ancient Asgardian prose, much less its depth—you know this, Strange.” Stephen did know this, kissing Loki before he could go on a tangent.

 

They kissed under the rising Arctic sun and it’s shifting, shattered glass veil of ice; their bodies were listless between the warmth of each other and the cool ground under them. Loki would absorb as much of Stephen Strange’s warmth and whatever other frail, delicate emotions he felt for this man as he could...you never know when the moment could be stolen from under their feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy! This took a lot of time to write (I’ve been so busy with school, I haven’t the time to write anything actually good) and i haven’t edited it, so! Any errors here won’t get fixed up anytime soon. 
> 
> Enjoy my offering of smut.
> 
> A


End file.
